


Shining Shards of Shattered Hearts

by Nyxelestia



Series: Virtues, Chicken, and Destiny [4]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon Divergent, Dubcon Kissing, Enchantments, Episode: s04e09 Lancelot du Lac, F/M, Feels, Fix-It, Friendship, Gen, Infidelity (but not really), Jousting, Love, Love Potion/Spell, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Queerplatonic Relationships, Wedding Plans, canon AU, chicken, dub-con kissing, episode AU, love spells, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-26
Updated: 2015-03-06
Packaged: 2018-02-22 18:24:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2517428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nyxelestia/pseuds/Nyxelestia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    <br/>
    <i><b>(</b>Faith<b>)</b></i>
    <br/>
  </p>
</div><br/>Despite all the strife from Morgana and the lamia, there's finally good news to be had. Arthur has proposed to Guienvere - and Lancelot is back from the dead! Between preparing to wed the love of his life, and one of his best friends returning from the dead, Arthur couldn't be happier.<p>He should have known it was too good to be true.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AngelQueen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelQueen/gifts).



> All my love to [AngelQueen](http://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelQueen/pseuds/AngelQueen) for the beta. ♥

~*~

“Arthur!” Guinevere cried out laughingly, stumbling a little as they dashed down the stairs. She was stopped from falling only by Arthur’s firm grip on her elbow. “Where are we going?”

“Home,” Arthur said easily, brushing a strand away from the blindfold that covered Guinevere’s eyes. He nodded at Merlin ahead of them to open the next door.

“But we are home,” she said, confused. “We can’t possibly have walked for long enough to be out of Camelot by now.”

“Not quite what I meant,” Arthur replied, leading her carefully through the door. “You’ll see. It’s a surprise.”

“You don’t do surprises, Arthur,” Guinevere told him, laughing. “Every time you try you end up asking me and Merlin for help.” She paused. “Is he the one opening the doors?”

Arthur shook his head warningly at Merlin and said aloud, “Can I not be romantic now and then?”

“Your idea of romance is —”

“Guinevere,” Arthur whined playfully as they stepped out into the courtyard. Merlin ushered guards out of the way, motioning them all to be silent as Arthur led Guinevere to her house. “Fine, then – can I not _try_ to be romantic, then?”

She laughed again, fond and just as playful. “Of course you can, Arthur. If nothing else your attempts at wooing are amusing.”

“Well they work, don’t they?” he asked cheekily.

Merlin opened the last door leading into her house, and Arthur led her in, stopping her with a touch to the inside of her elbow. His manservant stepped carefully and silently around them – Arthur _knew_ he was being loud on purpose during hunts! – and Arthur shot him a grateful smile. Merlin gave him an encouraging grin and wave, before easing the door shut behind them.

Once the door was closed, Arthur said, “Surprise!” and pulled the blindfold off.

Guinevere blinked and gasped, her hands flying to her mouth as she took in her transformed home. Even Arthur stopped to admire his and Merlin’s handiwork. The fire wasn’t lit and yet the room was still bright from the myriad of candles spread around the room. There were small bouquets of flowers attached to every other vertical object, the horizontal surfaces all littered with the petals. On her table in the center was a simple yet romantic meal, a large chicken platter surrounded by vibrant leafs and colorful vegetables, dotted with cheeses and breads and more slices of chicken. There were two goblets and a small pitcher of wine, a bowl of chicken stew in between them, and off on Guinevere’s smaller side table was a dessert of artfully arranged candied fruits.

“Arthur, this is wonderful,” she said, slowly walking through her home and taking in the transformation. “Merlin must’ve spent ages on this.”

“Not just him,” Arthur said quickly. “I placed the candles, he just lit them. And I actually brought the dinner down myself.”

She smiled at Arthur as she sat down at the table. “Arthur, what’s all this for?”

“Er…something,” Arthur said. “Which I saved for after the meal.”

“Is it that scary for you?” she asked, amused, already plucking at one of the fruits.

“A little,” Arthur admitted, thinking of the little ball of tension his stomach had become from the moment he put the blindfold over her eyes. “I can face down a dragon easily enough, but this is something else altogether.”

“So you mean to say I’m more terrifying than a dragon?” she asked, and Arthur nearly panicked before seeing the gentle mocking in her eyes.

“Much scarier,” Arthur said instead. “And I mean that as a compliment, really.”

Guinevere smiled at him. “Then thank you, Arthur. Being told I’m scarier than a dragon is one of the loveliest compliments I’ve ever received.”

She looked down at her meal. “And this really is lovely…though I must ask, why all this chicken?”

Arthur tried not to blush, but it didn’t work. “Merlin’s idea of a joke, I suspect.”

“Because chicken is romantic?”

“Like I said, it _works_ ,” Arthur insisted, before he started carving up the meat in question.

~*~

The meal was not long by any means, but it was fun. It almost hurt to realize it but Arthur didn’t remember the last time he had laughed this much, smiled this much.

Hopefully, some of that would come back soon. He had his knights rallied behind him again, he had his best friend at this side – all he needed was Guinevere to officially become his queen and he could start building up his dream of Camelot for _real_. 

Soon their meal ended, though. With some chicken left on the plate and the dessert having been brought to the table, Guinevere asked, “Are we ever going to talk about whatever you brought me here for, or have I scared you that much?”

Arthur took a deep breath, and reached for his mother’s ring in his pocket. He moved around the small table so he was perched on the edge of Guinevere’s bench, ready to slip to his knee at the right moment.

“Guinevere,” Arthur said. “You have been one of my best friends for these past few years, and so often you have been so much more. You kept me sane during my father’s own madness, you ran this castle when I could not, and you brightened my days when all else fell dark. You…I’m not romantic, and as king, my heart can never be wholly yours, for it goes first and foremost to Camelot.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” she said carefully, clearly trying to figure out what he was doing.

“And that is a testament to your own virtue, as a person, and a friend…” and here, Arthur opened his palm to reveal the ring, and went down to his knee. “And I hope, as a queen – if you will have me.”

Tears started shining in her eyes as Arthur took her hand in his own and asked, “Guinevere, will you do me the honor of being my wife, and my queen? Will you marry me?”

She seemed to sob and laugh at the same time before shooting forward and wrapping her arms around Arthur, and after a moment, he remembered Merlin’s advice and wrapped his own arms around her.

“…that’s a yes, right?” he asked, and she laughed, wet but joyous, and kissed his ear.

“Did you think I would say anything else?” Guinevere asked as she pulled back to face him properly again.

“I was…nervous,” he said, trying not to choke around that small confession. “Scarier than a dragon, remember?”

She grinned and gave him her hand again, and he slide his ring onto her finger, saying, “This ring was my mother’s. She…I…” He trailed off, unsure what to say.

“Yes?” Guinevere said encouragingly.

“…I didn’t ask Merlin to write this part for me,” he blurted out. “I wanted to do this part on my own, but I couldn’t of anything to say and I was just hoping in the romance of the moment the right words would just come to me like it seems to for—”

She placed a finger against his lips, and he quieted, and she brought the ring up to level between their eyes.

“I understand, Arthur, I promise,” she said, lowering her hand to lean forward and kiss him again.

Arthur smiled into the kiss, and leaned his forehead against her cheek a moment later and said, “Thank you.”

“Your speech was lovely enough, Arthur,” she said, almost giggling but not quite. “I’ll have to pass my compliments on to Merlin, for these flowers and that speech…”

Voice much lower, Arthur said, “To be honest he’s probably watching us right now. You know how he is, never keeps his nose out of my business, especially not something as big as this. If nothing else, he’d want to see the fruits of his own labor.”

She _did_ giggle this time. “I’m a little bit worried by how _not_ worried that makes me.”

“Guinevere —”

“I used to be a servant, Arthur, I know how it is,” she assured him, still chuckling. “I know that when I marry you, I marry Camelot, and somewhere in the middle of all of this I get Merlin as well. I always knew that.”

“Good,” Arthur said. He lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to its back, as he started to speak up again. “Though I promise you that on our honeymoon it will be just you and me.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” she said, laughing one more time and shaking her head, before lifting her head and calling towards the door, “There are leftovers, you know! And that was a lovely speech.”

Arthur grinned as he heard Merlin’s surprised yelp, followed by the familiar sound of Merlin tripping over his own feet, before the door eased open to reveal a sheepish manservant.

“Am I that obvious?” he asked.

“Just a little,” Guinevere lied reassuringly.

Merlin came in, closing the door behind him, and sitting down on the bench opposite them. Guinevere moved over on hers so Arthur could sit next to her, wrapping his arm around her while he tangled his ankles with Merlin’s.

“Happy engagement!” Merlin toasted with Arthur’s goblet, sipping from it before digging into the leftover chicken. “See, Arthur? I told you the chicken would work.”

Arthur groaned, his forehead and palm meeting yet again as Guinevere laughed.

After a moment, though, he looked up at Merlin and said sincerely, “Thank you, Merlin, for helping me in all of this.”

Merlin stared, eyes wide.

“Merlin?” Arthur asked, unsure.

“Did…did you just _thank_ me?” Merlin asked in awe. Arthur nodded, slowly, wondering why Merlin was so shocked. “But…you never thank me!”

Guinevere laughed again, and Arthur rolled his eyes, asking the heavens why it is they decided _Merlin_ of all people was his best friend in this life.

“Well I’m trying, aren’t I?” he said. “I know I’m not normally romantic or grateful, but I think tonight is worth making the effort. And like I said, it worked…” He looked between them both. “Right?”

Guinevere clasped his hand in her own, her fingers warm and firm between his own, and Merlin reached over to wrap his much cooler fingers around both their hands.

“Yes, dearest,” Guinevere said.

“Very right,” Merlin said. “Now c’mon – let’s finish this chicken and start laying bets on whose face is going to scrunch up the funniest tomorrow once they hear a serving girl is going to become the new Queen of Camelot.”

~*~


	2. Chapter 2

~*~

“I have to hand it to you, you’re very unique in your gifts,” Merlin said, grabbing the helmet Arthur threw at him. “You could have given her a banquet, or flowers, or had a song written for her…instead you’ve given her two days of sweaty men knocking the sense out of each other.”

“That’s just how it should be,” Arthur said, before taking a drink from the water skin. “Besides, I’ve already done the meal and flowers, and there will be plenty of songs written for the wedding.”

“What, no chicken, then?” Merlin asked, adjusting Arthur’s armor while Arthur drank out of a water skin.

“We’re already engaged, Merlin, the chicken is no longer necessary,” Arthur replied, before internally wincing at that. Damnit, now Merlin was never letting go of this. “Besides, my father had a tourney for his wedding – it’s tradition.”

“So it’s not even an original gesture, then?” Merlin asked.

“I think my future wife understands,” Arthur said, grinning, turning to watch as Percival handed another jousting ring to Guinevere, who laughed as she saluted with it before adding it to the line of rings on the small pegs jutting out of the edge of the balcony.

Beside her, Agravaine sat stiff but ever courteous, and Arthur again felt a twinge of nervousness at leaving Guinevere alone up there with his uncle.

Merlin followed his line of sight and said, “Relax, Arthur – Agravaine is not going to try anything in broad daylight like this. The knights are switching off in guarding her too.” He paused, and then added in a quieter tone, “I also made sure she has a dagger with her. She’s protected.”

“This is supposed to be a happy occasion,” Arthur sighed. “She shouldn’t need to worry about Agravaine sitting right next to her.” He’d desperately wanted to have someone else up there with her, or no one if possible. Nonetheless, they all knew the importance of keeping up appearances if they wanted Agravaine to lead them to Morgana.

Guinevere was popular among the people, and respected among the councilors. It was the other nobles that would have to be won over, and so long as he still believed Arthur to be blind to his true loyalties, Agravaine was instrumental to that.

“She won’t,” Merlin assured him. “Trust me, when you know they’re not in a position to try anything it’s easy to ignore that someone’s a traitorous snake. You can even have a nice time with them.”

“Did you have a nice time with Morgana?” Arthur asked, giving him a hard look.

Merlin looked away, which was answer enough, really. “Well not _nice_ …but Morgana wasn’t trying with me, she knew I knew,” he said. “Agravaine is different – stop worrying.”

Arthur let out a weary breath and nodded. He wouldn’t stop worrying – he never would. He could never relax if Merlin or Guinevere were near his uncle, or anyone else close to him for that matter.

The horn for the next contestant sounded, and Arthur frowned as the next knight came out. It wasn’t a knight of his Order, and yet it didn’t look like a visiting nobleman, either.

“Who on earth is that?” Arthur asked as the knight pulled his horse into position.

“I don’t know,” Merlin said, and Arthur jerked sharply at the worried tone of Merlin’s voice. “But I take back what I said about not worrying. Look at Agravaine’s face.”

Arthur did, and stopped and stared for a moment at the smug, _victorious_ look on his uncle’s face as he looked down at the knight.

“What was that about my uncle not trying anything in broad daylight?” Arthur asked Merlin.

“Umm…”

The knight was riding forward then, with a skill that felt oddly familiar to Arthur, and the crowd cheered, oblivious to their king’s unease, as the man landed the ring on his lance.

As the knight approached the confused Guinevere, Agravaine’s smug look became smug observation as he looked to Guinevere, while she took the ring from the knight.

A moment later, though, Guinevere, Arthur, and Merlin were all staring in shock as _Lancelot_ pulled his helmet off.

“He’s dead,” Arthur said, stunned.

“Apparently not,” Merlin said. “And Arthur…your uncle.”

Arthur looked up, and when he saw the triumphant look on his uncle’s face, something in his gut twisted and froze.

“This can’t be good,” Merlin said. “Something’s wrong here, Arthur.”

“You’re right,” Arthur said dazedly as he saw Lancelot drift off to the tents for visiting nobles. “But until then, one of our best friends is back from the dead.”

~*~

“I know very little of what happened to me after I stepped through the veil,” Lancelot said. “So I’m afraid my story won’t be as illuminating as you are probably hoping.”

“We’re just happy to see you, Lancelot,” Arthur said. Which was true – whatever his uncle was up to that involved Lancelot, they had their friend _back_ from what everyone had thought to be death, and there was no way to be anything but delighted about this. “Happy and amazed.”

“I owe everything to the Mudhabi people,” Lancelot started his story with, and Arthur listened to the tale of Lancelot’s trials and terrors, his story of trying to find himself and his way back to where he came from.

Everything he’d gone through without them there, without his friends and chosen family.

“…then I made my way north,” Lancelot said, taking a perfunctory sip of his wine.

“Then you made your way home,” Arthur insisted. He paused for a moment, glancing at Agravaine out of the corner of his eye, whose face was ever the practiced mask of grace.

Arthur reached out and took Guinevere’s hand in his own as he said, “We can’t thank you enough for what you did for us on the Isle of the Blessed. You will always be remembered, and all of history will be grateful for your sacrifice.”

“It wasn’t much of a sacrifice,” Lancelot said. “I didn’t die.”

“A test, then,” Arthur said, thinking back to the incident with the unicorn and what he thought of as ‘Merlin Is a Giant Girl, Example One’. “I’ve done the same. I drank poison once to save my kingdom, only for it to turn out a sleeping draught. People of magic seem fond of tests like these, seeing how far you’ll for what you want. It was a test of some sort, gone a little wrong when you ended up far away instead of right where you started.”

Even magic had to mess up now and then, right?

Guinevere squeezed his hand, supportive, as Lancelot smiled and stood, lifting his goblet with him. “I’d like to propose a toast…to those I hold most dear. It’s good to be back. To Camelot!”

“To Camelot,” Arthur said, lifting his own goblet delightfully and taking a sip from.

Lancelot sat back down as Merlin walked around, refilling everyone’s goblets, murmuring, “To Camelot,” as he refilled Lancelot’s.

“Merlin,” Lancelot said. “Why don’t you sit down with us?”

“I can’t, George might come back,” Merlin said in something close to distress as he took his place behind Arthur again.

“Who’s George?” Lancelot asked in confusion.

“This upstart little git who’s trying to take my job,” Merlin said, scowling. The knights all grinned in mischief at Lancelot’s confusion, Guinevere was smiling fondly, and Agravaine was rolling his eyes.

“He’s not going to take your job, Merlin,” Arthur said, exasperated.

“That’s not going to stop him from trying,” Merlin snapped, and Arthur threw his hands up in the air in frustration as all knights attempted to ‘clarify’ who George was to an increasingly confused Lancelot.

Through it all, though, he was smiling, everyone was.

It was like old times.

At the end of the night, Arthur said, “I only wished you’d told me you were coming sooner, I would have had your old rooms prepared – but all of them have been taken up by other nobles visiting for the tourney and the wedding.”

“It’s all right,” Merlin said cheerfully. “He can stay with me until the wedding’s over and his old room’s free again.”

Arthur smiled as Merlin grinned at his old friend. Lancelot and Merlin had always been close, and Merlin had been devastated by Lancelot’s death. He didn’t know what his uncle was up to or what Agravaine – or potentially Morgana – wanted with Lancelot, and he knew things would be complicated between him and Guinevere now. But regardless, the knight was back, and Merlin was happier for it, and at least for now, that was all that mattered.

It was probably because of Merlin’s happiness during dinner that the manservant’s grief was nearly palpable the next morning when Arthur awoke to Merlin saying, “That’s not Lancelot.”

~*~

“You know when I mentioned that I have secrets?” Merlin said, assembling Arthur’s armor.

“Yes…” Arthur said slowly, long and drawn out.

“Well, Lancelot knows many of them,” Merlin said.

Arthur pursed his lips, thinking of Guinevere and Lancelot’s joined hands in the tunnels below Hengist’s castle so many years ago.

“Why does Lancelot get to know them before I do?” he asked stiffly.

“Because Lancelot doesn’t have the authority to kill me,” Merlin snapped. Arthur’s hurt and shock must’ve shown on his face, and Merlin seemed to deflate a little, adding, “I wasn’t as good at hiding my secrets five years ago.”

Arthur blinked. “He’s known for that long?” he demanded. “And he’s never told me? Not even now.”

“About that…” Merlin sighed. “I mentioned them last night – and he had no idea what I was talking about.”

“And I supposed you’re still not going to tell me what your secret is?” Arthur asked. Merlin bit his lip and regretfully shook his head. “Well, then…is there any chance he just…forgot?”

“He wouldn’t!” Merlin said. “This isn’t something that’s forgettable!”

“Well, he did nearly die, Merlin. He’s allowed to forget a few things,” Arthur said. Lancelot was…the timing of his reappearance right before the wedding wasn’t good, but Arthur wasn’t going to protest Lancelot coming back. “Or maybe he was hit on the head at some point, it blocked out parts of his memory.”

“Arthur, he…he’s been different, Arthur, the entire time, I felt that something was wrong,” Merlin said. “There’s something _off_ about him, Arthur, and…we don’t have Lancelot back.”

“It’s like you don’t even _want_ him back,” Arthur said viciously, glaring at him. Merlin flinched, and Arthur sighed. “I’m sorry, Merlin, just…he’s been through a lot. A man is allowed to change.”

“Arthur, please, listen to me,” Merlin practically begged.

“I am listening to you, Merlin,” Arthur said. “But – have you proven that Lancelot is someone else disguised as him?”

“…no.”

“Then I fail to see the problem.” He paused, thought of Agravaine’s face, and said, “Though perhaps he may be enchanted. Morgana may have run across him in the forest, enchanted him…he hasn’t tried to kill me yet, though.”

“It’s more than that, Arthur,” Merlin said. “I want Lancelot back, but —”

“Merlin,” Arthur said, “If there is an enchantment, find it and get Gaius to break it. Before he tries to kill me, of course. We can work our way from there.”

The other man bit his lip. “At least make sure no one tells him about our knowledge of Agravaine’s betrayal?” Merlin asked. “Just in case.”

Arthur took in a deep breath. Lancelot had the kind of history with both Guinevere and Merlin that Arthur _wanted_ , and that really should be every reason to distrust the man. The knight had always been loyal to Arthur, though, and had been willing to protect Merlin and Guinevere with his life.

He was the only other man who loved Merlin and Guinevere as much as Arthur did. That alone made him a threat, and that alone made him Arthur’s greatest ally and truest friend.

But even Arthur could see the sense in Merlin’s request – if the man was enchanted, he couldn’t know of their plans, lest Morgana find out.

“Fine,” he said sharply. “Just…act quickly. If Lancelot’s enchanted, I want him cured as fast as possible. Before the wedding.”

“Thank you,” Merlin said, relieved.

~*~

“Your Highness,” Lancelot said, bowing to him before Guinevere, Agravaine, and all of Camelot as they applauded the latest joust. The one which he just defeated Arthur in.

Arthur nodded graciously, while doing everything in his power to not wrangle Lancelot’s neck.

Was this Morgana’s plan? To humiliate Arthur?

“I told you something was off,” Merlin said as soon as Arthur was in the tent. “Lancelot wouldn’t have ever hurt you in the first place, not when this entire tourney is about you and your future wife. Arthur —”

“Just…get me out of my armor,” Arthur snapped. “I…I failed. I’m not always the best jouster, no matter what my undercover tournament entry several years ago proved. People change, Merlin.”

“Not this much,” Merlin said quietly as he started unbuckling. “And not this soon.”

~*~

“Arthur…Arthur… _sire_!”

“Wha…?” Arthur asked, one eye opening to a slit, moving his shoulder as he realized it was the middle of the night. “Merlin, you better have good reason for — _Uncle!_ ”

Arthur nearly jumped out of the bed entirely when he saw his uncle there. He had to fight every instinct he had to keep from reaching for his sword.

“Forgive me for waking you like this, sire,” Agravaine said easily. Not trying to kill him in his sleep, then. “But…there is something you need to see.”

~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god, I'm so sorry that this took so long. Here is the next chapter, and the rest of the story is beta'd and ready to go, so I'll update it more consistently. For future reference, please feel free to pester me about updates. I'm not proud of it, but sometimes I literally just forget that I haven't updated (I spent the last several weeks thinking I had this fic posted up to Chapter 3) - especially since I've been drowning in Real LifeTM, lately.
> 
> Please review, and let me know what you think! :)


	3. Chapter 3

~*~

Arthur warily followed his uncle down to the throne room, one hand on the pommel of his sword at all times.

“Uncle, what is it I need to see?” Arthur asked yet again, growing impatient. “Just tell me.”

“I am sorry, sire, but I cannot bear to explain it – this is something you absolutely must see for yourself.”

Arthur knew most of his irritability was from being woken at this time and in this manner, but he couldn’t help but consider giving into his long-standing urge to run his uncle through with his sword right then and there.

“Please don’t make me order you to answer the question,” Arthur tried instead. “I have always tried to see you as my uncle first and advisor second, but —”

“Sire,” Agravaine said, gesturing to the door now that they’d reached the throne room.

Keeping a wary eye on his uncle, Arthur slowly stepped forward, into the throne room-

And stopped short at seeing Lancelot kissing Guinevere.

_No…_

For a moment, he stood rooted to the spot, unable to believe his own eyes, unable to comprehend two of the most trustworthy and loyal people he knew, no matter how great their love, betraying him.

“No,” he breathed out.

And that was apparently enough for them to hear him.

There was a brief moment of standstill. Then a look of horror flashed across Guinevere’s face, while Lancelot’s countenance grew blank as death.

Arthur could see Lancelot and Guinevere standing there, the latter quivering in fear. He could hear his uncle standing behind him, saying, “I’m sorry sire, but you needed to see this.” He could remember Merlin’s words about enchantments and Lancelot not being Lancelot and he could hear Guinevere murmuring his name repeatedly, see the tears running down her face and…

All he could think about were two joined hands in a darkened tunnel. Strange how that memory from so many years ago seemed so clear now…

“Arthur?” Guinevere asked quietly.

He heard Agravaine shift his weight behind him, then Lancelot was standing defensively before Guinevere – and that was when Arthur realized his hand was on his sword. Of course Lancelot would defend her.

That was why Arthur had considered Lancelot such a great friend. He had never been able to hate anyone who could love and protect Guinevere – and Merlin – as much as he himself did.

Until now, that is.

“I want them taken to the dungeons,” Arthur said, low and quiet and devoting far too much willpower than should be needed to keep himself from crying. “Now.”

“Arthur,” Agravaine said.

“I said _now_ ,” Arthur growled, not caring about his uncle’s shock in being addressed in such a way. His future wife just betrayed him – he didn’t give a damn about treason or plots or politeness.

He threw one last glare at the two as Agravaine called for guards and turned on his heel and left.

Lancelot already got Merlin’s secrets. He didn’t get to have Guinevere, too.

~*~

Arthur realized the next morning he should’ve ordered Agravaine and the guards to keep their mouths shut. The whole court would be aflame by now.

He couldn’t find it in himself to care, instead standing by his window and watching the city, which was just as vibrant as ever. The commoners, whether they cared about his wedding or not, had lives to move on with. Yet again, Arthur wished he could be one of them.

There was a knock at the door, and when Arthur didn’t respond, the door opened. For once, George carried only a plate of simple foods.

“On the table,” Arthur ordered gruffly, turning back to the window. He heard the small clink of metal on wood, then George retreating, the door nearly silent as it closed.

Merlin wouldn’t have retreated – he would’ve stayed and demanded a reaction from Arthur, cajoled him and attempted to cheer him up, or at least quietly stood by him. But apparently, he was nowhere to be found.

Was Arthur losing everybody?

There was another knock at the door. “Sire?”

Arthur sighed. “Come in, Leon.”

Leon did, clearly hesitant and careful. Everyone was treating Arthur like a fragile figurine, and he was caught between being grateful and reaching the end of his patience.

“Would you prefer to hear my reports now or later?” Leon asked.

Turning towards the man and stepping away from the temptation of the window, he said simply, “Now.”

“Well – I doubt there is anyone in the castle who hasn’t heard of what happened by now,” Leon said. “I’m sorry, sire, I know you would’ve preferred to deal with this quietly.”

“My uncle is old-fashioned,” Arthur said. _As well as a traitor._

He could see the same thought on Leon’s face, but the man tactfully didn’t say it.

“Gwaine is still looking for Merlin,” Leon said. “Elyan is talking with Gwen. Percival tried to talk to Lancelot, but he refused to see anybody.”

“What is Elyan talking about?” Arthur asked. He’d nearly forbidden anyone from seeing the two, but in the end just held his tongue on that matter. Letting people talk was always the best way to get information.

“I’m not entire sure – there was shouting, but…Gwen isn’t denying it. She’s just saying she is ashamed and can’t explain why, that Lancelot…I don’t know. At that point she threw a bracelet at his head and they were quieter after that,” Leon said.

“Anything else I should know about?”

The knight hesitated, but then said, “Quite a few of the Court are talking about what other kings have done…what your father would’ve done,” Leon said.

“Like my father had room to talk,” Arthur snorted bitterly.

“Sire.”

“I’m not going to execute her,” Arthur told him, brooking no argument. “Or Lancelot.”

He looked down at the plate of food and turned away, his stomach rebelling at the very thought of eating.

“Anything else?” Arthur asked.

Before Leon could respond, there was another knock, and Leon opened the door to let in Gwaine.

“Found Merlin,” the man said, subdued. “He was talking to Gwen after Elyan left – and he and Percival should be here, soon.”

Arthur didn’t want to face Guinevere’s brother, but he knew he had to.

“Do you know what Merlin was running about for?” Arthur asked instead. “Or talking to Guinevere about? Has Lancelot spoken to anyone yet?”

“No.”.

Arthur went back to his window, watching individual people on the streets and in the courtyard. Did the woman carrying those baskets ever betray somebody so intimately? Had she ever been betrayed? What was it like, to go through this without the eyes of so many watching?

Was she allowed to forgive and forget, like some small part of Arthur so desperately wanted to?

He sat down at his desk and looked blankly at a message he’d received from King Rodor less than two weeks before. The man was offering his daughter’s hand in marriage to settle the Gedref dispute, and at the time Arthur had laughed it off, already planning his proposal to Guinevere with Merlin.

Maybe he really should do a political marriage and be done with it. He wouldn’t be happy, but he wouldn’t be heartbroken, either.

The door opened and closed again.

“Sire?”

He was drawn out of his musings to see the other two knights there – Percival looking steadfastly at a spot on the table, Elyan looking like a wreck, his voice cracking on addressing Arthur.

“I tried to find out why she did it,” Elyan said, his tone full of helplessness. “I…I honestly can’t…Gwen would never do such a thing. I’m sorry, so sorry —”

“Did you make her betray me?” Arthur asked pointedly, voice sharper than he would’ve liked.

“…No.”

“Then kindly shut up,” Arthur said, leaning on his elbows over the desk. “All of you, just – if you have nothing new to add, then leave. I need to be alone.”

He could see all of them save Elyan about to protest, but Arthur just glared at them. He was the king and his once-future wife and former-close friend just betrayed him. He was entitled to what little privacy he could have before he spoke with her later. Hopefully by then he’d have his emotions under control.

Right now, though, the only thing he could make himself do was go flop on the bed and stay there.

Except he barely got any peace on his sheets and pillows before he heard the door open.

Even before the quiet, “Arthur?” he knew it was Merlin – the recalcitrant manservant was the only one who would barge into the king’s quarters without at least knocking.

“Where were you?” Arthur asked, sitting up on the bed. He wondered if Merlin could hear the _when I needed you_ that Arthur didn’t voice.

“I told you,” Merlin said, “that’s not Lancelot. There’s something else going on!”

“Then what is it?” Arthur snapped. In light of recent events, he knew he should listen to Merlin, but with this —

“I can’t say,” Merlin said quietly.

“Like your secrets? The ones _Lancelot_ knows but I don’t?”

“That Lancelot _knew_ ,” Merlin corrected. “Lancelot is dead, Arthur. That _thing_ downstairs in the dungeons isn’t him!”

“ _Proof_ , Merlin,” Arthur growled. “You’ve lied to me too much for me to believe a word you are saying without _proof_!”

“I’m getting it,” Merlin replied quietly. “I didn’t think you’d take my word for it. Arthur, please, just – don’t do anything rash.”

“Why shouldn’t I?” Arthur snapped. “I thought you were supposed to be _my_ servant, _my_ friend. Why the hell are you siding with them?” Before Merlin could respond, though, Arthur was laughing, the sound like knives and broken glass in his throat. “Who am I kidding? Camelot is protected by the knights more than me, Lancelot was supposed to be my First Knight and Guinevere was supposed to be my Queen – why should I expect to keep you when you’ll reveal the least about yourself to me and the most to them?”

“Arthur,” Merlin pleaded, “please —”

“Get out,” Arthur snarled. “Now.”

“Arthur!” Merlin said. “Did it ever occur to you —”

“GET OUT!”

Merlin stumbled backwards several steps when Arthur stopped holding back his rage and pain.

“Arthur…”

When Arthur stood up, Merlin fled the room.

As soon as the door closed, the fight drained out of him, and he fell back on the bed, trying not to remember the fear and hurt on Merlin’s face.

He wondered if he got this all wrong – if it wasn’t that everyone was leaving him, but that he was the one driving them away. He wondered if he was more like his father and his sister than he wanted to be. He wondered if —

No. He couldn’t wonder, not anymore. He may be a bad king, but not everything was his fault. 

Right?

He turned over and dug his head into his pile of pillows as he tried desperately to convince himself.

~*~


	4. Chapter 4

~*~

“They’re saying I should execute you,” Arthur said. “That my father would have done that, and nearly any other king would.”

He took a deep breath. Deep breaths were supposed to help calm you down, right? That’s what Gaius always said.

Gaius apparently didn’t know anything.

“Did you have doubts?” he asked her. “I – I was trying to be a good betrothed, a good —”

Arthur could swear he saw a tear fly off Guinevere’s face with the fury that she shook her head. “I don’t – this wasn’t to do with you.”

“Then what was it?” Arthur asked. “Was I just a _replacement_ when we all thought Lancelot dead?”

“No!” she protested, her eyes wide with distress.

Arthur glared at her, silently demanding an explanation, but she continued to just stand there trembling, crying, and shaking her head.

He had no idea what to do. If it were any other situation he’d ask Guinevere and Merlin and consult the knights. But the knights were even more divided and clueless than him, Merlin was gone, and…

He couldn’t stop to wrap his arms around Guinevere right now and let her cry into his chest, no matter how much he wanted to.

It was a lot easier to stop himself when he imagined Lancelot doing that for her.

“We would have been married tomorrow,” Arthur told her. “Tonight would be the feast day. By this time tomorrow you would’ve been Queen! Why would you throw that away?”

“I don’t know,” Guinevere murmured, not answering his question at all.

Arthur took a deep breath. “I won’t kill you. I can’t. But you can’t stay here. I —”

“Arthur!”

Both he and Guinevere jerked their heads at the distant shout of a voice calling his name, and the clamor of guards down the hall stepping in his way

“Oh, _now_ he shows up!” Arthur grumbled. Where the hell had Merlin been all morning?

“What are you going to do to me?” she asked, turning back to face him. Arthur opened his mouth to try speaking again.

“Arthur!” Merlin called again, a little louder and closer. “Let me through, you clots, I need to speak with the king!”

By the end of that, his voice was coming from right outside the door.

“I don’t know,” Arthur admitted, looking at the door. “But give me a moment to deal with him —”

“I have to stop him before he does something stupid to her!” he heard Merlin shout, his voice becoming slightly fainter as he was apparently dragged away. Arthur was about to hang his head at Merlin’s loyalty to Guinevere when he heard him yell, “Arthur, she’s been enchanted!”

Arthur froze, as did Guinevere.

“I…what?” she whispered, looking down at herself in confusion.

“Let him through!” Arthur shouted at the doors, his heartbeat pounding in his ears.

There was more scuffling, and then the doors were pushed open and Merlin stumbled in…well, fell in, anyway. He nearly sprawled right across the floor before one of the guards caught his arm.

Merlin looked like an absolute wreck. Whatever he’d been doing throughout the night, he’d gotten no sleep and had little opportunity to clean himself up. His clothes and hair were disheveled, and he had inexplicable smudges all over his face and hands. His eyes were bright from sleep-deprivation, his face flushed red from exertion, and he swayed where he stood.

But he also seemed confident, and he reached into his pocket and pulled out what looked to be a silver bracelet of some sort.

Guinevere gasped, staring at the plain jewelry in shock.

“Enchanted,” Merlin gasped out. “Gwen was enchanted…bracelet…love spell…”

“Breathe,” Arthur ordered him, trying to process Merlin’s words as he strode towards his manservant, grasping his shoulder and rubbing his back. “In and out. Even you should be able to figure that out.”

Merlin nodded, his face slowly returning to its normal shade as he swallowed air, and Arthur looked at a surprised Guinevere, who was still staring at the bracelet in Merlin’s hand, a shocked but otherwise unreadable expression on her face.

Arthur could see a small crowd of people just on the edges of the door way out in the corridor, people he’d have to face in the wake of Guinevere’s betrayal, a humiliation the likes of which Arthur had hoped to never face.

Was all this another ploy of a malcontent sorcerer?

“This bracelet,” Merlin said when he finally stood up, regaining his breath. “That Guinevere was wearing for the last few days – there’s a love spell on it. It’s not her fault, none of this!”

It took him a few moments to comprehend what Merlin was saying, but the crowd of courtiers and nobles loitering outside the doors was already breaking out into surprised gasps and murmurs.

“Explain yourself,” he demanded of Merlin. “Now.”

“I told you that wasn’t Lancelot, but I knew I couldn’t prove it yet. But I knew even if it _had been_ him – and it wasn’t! – Gwen wouldn’t betray you, so I started poking around everything she’s been doing, going near, eating – I got it right with the bracelet. Gaius can explain the details but whoever wears it gets put under a love spell! Gwen wore it for a few days, started acting strange, the not-Lancelot takes advantage, then she throws it off and now she’s back to her own senses!”

Arthur could feel himself getting more and more incredulous through Merlin’s babbling ‒ and more hopeful.

He turned towards the guards. “Leave us be and close the doors!”

They nodded with their yes, sire’s and bade his will, and Arthur could already see some of the nobles leaning, hoping to eavesdrop on them.

Arthur didn’t even care about that anymore. Once the door was closed, he turned back to Merlin and Guinevere.

“So you’re saying all of this —” He waved his arm at Guinevere and the rest of the empty room where he’d found her with Lancelot last night. “Was a spell?”

Guinevere kept opening and closing her mouth, clearly wanting to ask a question but not sure what. Arthur could relate.

Merlin nodded eagerly. “You don’t need to execute her or banish her or anything, right? It wasn’t really her!”

Arthur took a deep breath, humiliated rage and desperate hope battling tooth and claw in his heart. He could feel his head and shoulders tense under his warring emotions, and forcibly turned away from both Merlin and Guinevere. “I will need to talk to Gaius about this.”

“Of course,” Merlin agreed. “He’s waiting in his chambers, promise.”

Sighing through his nose, Arthur directed towards Guinevere without looking at her, “Stay here.”

“No.”

He turned sharply to face her. She was standing in the exact same place. Her body was still quivering in fear, but her chin was up and her eyes glinted with a familiar determination, even through the tears.

“If I’m enchanted, I want to know what’s happening.”

“ _Were_ enchanted,” Merlin said. “If you’re not wearing the bracelet anymore, you’re fine.”

“Still,” Guinevere said, giving him a stubborn look. “I need to know what happened to me.”

Arthur pursed his lips but nodded. He tried to tell that stupid bubble of hope inside him to stop getting itself up, because hope wasn’t going to help anyone, right now – least of all, him.

~*~

Arthur listened to Gaius’s nonsensical explanation, staring balefully at the multitude of herbs and beakers and jars and books spread out across two tables.

“So none of that was me?” Guinevere said. “I can’t – I didn’t understand it, but this…?”

“Be that as it may,” Agravaine said, glaring at her as he stepped between her and Arthur. “She still betrayed you, Arthur, and she still needs —”

“If she was enchanted,” Arthur began, trying not to feel deliriously _happy_.

“She should have fought it!”

“And if she couldn’t?” Merlin challenged, glaring furiously at the older man. “You’ve never been enchanted, you have no idea —”

“Merlin,” Arthur said sharply, and for once the idiot listened to him, thank goodness. The last thing he needed was for his manservant to completely lose his temper and lunge for Agravaine’s throat, especially given how much Arthur didn’t want to stop him. “Uncle, I appreciate your protective nature, but if this was an enchantment, then it means someone was using Guinevere to attack _me_. This is an attack on myself and my future queen, and it will be treated as such!”

“…your future queen?” Agravaine asked, eyes wide in shock. “You mean…?”

Arthur stepped around his uncle and smiled at Guinevere, who was focusing her eyes on her feet. “If she was enchanted, she didn’t betray me – and nothing more untoward than a kiss occurred, so there are no physical concerns to otherwise interfere with our plans.”

Her head snapped up in shock, but Arthur was already turning to face Gaius and his uncle, frowning at the way Agravaine was looking almost nauseous while staring at Guinevere. Was his uncle that upset at a servant becoming queen? Or was it something worse?

He turned back to her and asked, “Guinevere – who gave you the bracelet? We need to deal with our perpetrator before we can go back to the wedding, lest they try again.”

She murmured something, so quietly that Arthur asked, “Say again?”

“I said, it was Lancelot,” she repeated. “Lancelot gave me the bracelet.”

Arthur stared at her uncomprehendingly. “But…he…”

“Well it’s obvious, then,” Agravaine said. “The man was jealous and decided to destroy you and your wedding —”

“And _I’m_ telling you, that’s not Lancelot!” Merlin interrupted furiously. “Okay, fine, let’s stop for a second and pretend Lancelot really is that jealous and cruel – _which he isn’t_ – then why would he do all this here? He’d enchant Gwen and get her away from Camelot! He’s not that stupid! And he’s not that mean, he’d never do something like this in the first place!”

“If that’s not Lancelot, then who is he?” Agravaine asked, casting a disbelieving sneer in the manservant’s direction. “Or is he just enchanted, too?”

“After the number of times we’ve all been attacked by magic over the last few months, I’d say yes,” Merlin challenged. “It makes sense, and Morgana is escalating her game, and it works-”

“And what do you know about how magic works, boy?” Agravaine said irritably.

“A lot more than you!”

“ _Merlin!_ ” Arthur and Gaius both shouted at once.

Merlin backed down carefully, turning sharply away and facing one of the many strange drawings and etchings on Gaius’ floor.

“You keep saying this isn’t Lancelot,” Arthur said to Merlin after a moment of tense silence. “What do you mean by that? Can you prove it?”

“I…” Merlin looked nervously at Gaius, and Arthur sighed.

“I’m not going to punish Gaius if he used his knowledge of magic to help us defend against magic,” Arthur said, wording his promise carefully while trying not to wince at his own word-mincing. He really didn’t want to punish the old man if he used magic for Arthur’s sake, but Arthur wasn’t willing to change the laws on magic just yet. He didn’t know everything, yet, and until he did…

“Bring Lancelot up here,” Merlin said. “And we can show you what we mean. That isn’t Lancelot – and it may not even be human.”

Arthur nodded and turned to Agravaine. “Get him up here – quickly.”

“I —” Agravaine took a deep breath, and Arthur had to fight down a twinge of regret at ordering Agravaine around as he did. “Of course, sire.”

“Thank you,” he added unnecessarily, waiting until the man was out the door before calling in the two knights stationed outside.

“Elyan,” Arthur said. “Take Guinevere up to —” He turned to her. “Your house or my chambers? After last night…” Now his chest twinged in guilt. He should have trusted her, should have seen how nothing made sense.

Like right now – she wouldn’t look at him, keeping her eyes focused on the corner of a bookcase. “I think I’d like to go to the house. I…I could use some home comforts and such.”

Arthur nodded. “Elyan, take her down there, help her with anything she needs, and make sure to keep your guard up. I don’t know what’s going on, yet, but someone is attacking me again, and using her to do it.”

“Of course,” Elyan agreed, not even trying to hide his relief from his face or posture. He wrapped his arm around his sister’s shoulders and led her away, his free hand on his sword pommel as they walked, the siblings’ heads ducked together in quiet conversation.

“What do you need me for?” Gwaine asked.

“Keep an eye on Agravaine after he gets back up here with Lancelot,” Arthur said. “He may just be upset about me marrying a servant girl – he was never happy about that – but maybe it’s connected to Morgana. Hopefully after this debacle, if it is them, he’ll lead us right to her and I can finally run him through.”

Merlin snorted his agreement. Gaius looking at him disapprovingly, but Gwaine just smirked.

“Do I get a turn?” Gwaine asked.

“If there’s anything left after I’m done,” Arthur said magnanimously.

“So – wedding’s back on, then?” 

“Delayed, but yes,” Arthur said, grinning. “You’re still to be kept away from the ale barrels, don’t think I’ve forgotten about that just because of yet another magic attack.”

Gwaine groaned theatrically, and Arthur turned to the other two men to see Merlin smirking at him. “You’re in high spirits,” he commented.

“Of course I am!” Arthur said. “After all the people who betrayed me, I finally find someone who didn’t! My future wife is still mine, still loyal, and I’m still getting married! Why wouldn’t I be happy?”

Gwaine laughed.

“And,” Arthur continued. “If Lancelot was enchanted, then he didn’t betray me, either! He’s back, Merlin, and…”

Merlin was suddenly very sad again, and Arthur said, “Merlin, you said it yourself —”

“When I said that wasn’t him,” Merlin said. “I didn’t mean that I think he’s just Lancelot enchanted. I mean that it _isn’t him_.” Merlin bit his lip, glanced at Gaius, then back at Arthur. “He died, Arthur – there is no coming back from that. While some sorcerers and Keepers of Magic on the Earth are content with a willingness to die, the Old Religion doesn’t accept that – it needs actual death, and there was no one else that night on the Isle.”

Arthur shook his head. “That can’t be, Merlin, then how is he here?”

“Necromancy.”

They all turned to Gaius. “A very frowned upon form of magic, sire, one that normally even the most hostile of sorcerers wouldn’t touch. It requires significant amount of both darkness in the heart, and power…”

“…both of which Morgana has in spades,” Gwaine said, his expression grim.

Arthur looked at the bright sky outside through the window. “So – there is no having him back? Are you _sure_? Maybe something else did happen and that’s why Lancelot ended up so far, and someone else died or the Old Religion —”

“Arthur,” Gaius said, laying a gentle hand on his elbow. Arthur stilled at the touch. “It’s not him.”

It was irrational. The last time he saw the man, he’d been kissing Arthur’s future wife. But for all that Arthur knew of Lancelot’s own love for Guinevere, his strong friendship with Merlin…those were perhaps the biggest reasons Arthur had been so close to Lancelot, as well.

The knight was the only other man who cared for Merlin and Guinevere as much as Arthur himself, the only other man who Arthur knew would care for and protect them both as Arthur would; the only one Arthur could trust with them, despite how risky that trust was.

It was a bit selfish, wanting Lancelot around despite knowing Lancelot’s feelings for Guinevere. But the man had been one of his best friends and Arthur’s First Knight – he couldn’t help wanting him back.

“I guess we’ll have to see,” Arthur said. Taking another risk, he asked Gaius, “Is there anything you need to do for your proof that I shouldn’t see, right now?”

Merlin looked at him with inexplicable pride as Gaius shook his head. “It was all taken care of days ago, sire, when Merlin first got suspicious.”

“First suspicious? Really?”

Gaius smiled wanly. “I’ve learned the hard way, sire, that when Merlin is suspicious of something, he’s usually right.”

“One of his few talents, then.” 

“Hey!” Merlin protested. He opened his mouth to speak again, when the door opened and Agravaine strode in.

“Arthur,” the man said, looking grave. “We may have a problem with Lancelot.”

“Was he not in his cell?” Arthur asked, frowning at the thought of an enchanted man managing to escape his cells.

“No, he was in his cell,” Agravaine said. “He was also dead.”

~*~


	5. Chapter 5

~*~

Arthur stared down at Lancelot’s cold, still body on Gaius’ table, trying to feel _something_ and finding himself unable to.

“How did he kill himself?” Arthur asked finally.

“He used his belt to hang himself off the bars, I believe,” Agravaine said, pulling back the collar of Lancelot’s tunic to show the bruises around his neck. The two other knights in the room, Gwaine and Leon, turned sharply away from the sight. Despite all the gorier, more violent things they’d seen, seeing _this_ on their friend had to hurt.

The councilmen didn’t care, leaning in closer to inspect the body.

He hated to admit it just now, but it hurt Arthur, too.

Arthur breathed out through his nose stiffly, trying not to glare at his uncle, at the councilors in the room, the two dungeon guards, at the knights, at Gaius and Merlin and —

“What are you doing?” he asked Merlin, who for some bizarre reason was _moving_ the table Lancelot was laying on, towards his own room.

“I can still show you,” Merlin huffed, stopping to point to a drawing on the floor just outside the door. “What he is – I just need to get his body inside that thing.”

“This is _nonsense_ , boy!” Agravaine growled. “We do not have time for your ridiculousness.”

Agravaine’s effort in deterring Merlin made Arthur look at Gwaine and Leon and jerk his head towards the table, and they nodded, helping Merlin lift Lancelot’s body and lay his head and torso inside the strange, circular etching.

For a moment, nothing happened, and Agravaine started saying, “See? Now move —”

But then abruptly Lancelot’s skin started to simmer and glow, and there appeared to be…something _inside him_?

“What the…” Gwaine said, while Leon just stared wide-eyed at the dead man, and the _thing_ inside him. Agravaine froze, and several of the councilmen actually jumped back in shock, one man crossing himself in fear.

Actually, it just looked like a skeleton inside him. “Merlin – what is this?”

The knights quickly pulled Lancelot’s body away from the circle, eager to end the disturbing visage, while Merlin stepped inside it – and nothing happened to him at all. He held up his arms as if to prove his point.

“Necromancy, sire, just as we told you,” Gaius said. “Morgana – or some powerful sorcerer at any rate – reanimated a type of…replica of Lancelot. Then she put a love spell on Guinevere, and of course the two brought together – well…”

Arthur swallowed, staring down at the…body? What _was_ it, if it wasn’t Lancelot?

“I thought we had him back,” Arthur murmured.

“We all did,” Gaius said while looking at Merlin, who was staring mournfully at not-Lancelot’s face, gently resting a hand on the dead man’s shoulder.

There was a long stretch of silence, save for the councilors murmuring to themselves, and Arthur sighed.

“What are you going to do about this, Arthur?” Agravaine asked, posture stiff and face blank.

_I could ask the same of you,_ Arthur thought.

“As of now,” Arthur said looking around the room, “finding Morgana has to be our biggest priority. We’ve on the defensive for too long.”

Looking down at the not-Lancelot, glancing over at Merlin, he added, “I don’t know if she’s planning something. She’s changed so much from the woman I grew up knowing that I can’t predict her moves, not anymore. She’s doing something big if she is planning something, or she’s getting more and more desperate if she isn’t. Either way, we need to focus on not just keeping Camelot safe from her, but taking her down.”

Arthur didn’t look at any of them, not quite ready for that just yet.

“Arthur?” Gaius prodded.

“I need a moment,” he said. He turned somewhat towards Gwaine and Leon. “Alert the other knights to our new status concerning Morgana.” Then he turned to the councilors, ordering, “Start gathering all the information we have, every scrap of data, on Morgana, her actions, her whereabouts – if there was so much as a rumor of her in some distant land, we need it now.” And then, to Agravaine, he said, “Just…help the council, the knights, anyone who needs it.”

“Of course,” Agravaine said, with a gracious bow of the head.

_Plenty of room for you to go to your mistress_ , Arthur didn’t say to him. When Agravaine turned to leave, he gave Leon a pointed look, before glancing at Agravaine. The knight nodded.

When everyone else filed out of the room, and it was just Arthur, Gaius, and Merlin, he said, “Is there anything else I should know now, that you couldn’t say in front of the others?”

Merlin bit his lip and looked at the drawing in front of his door, and Arthur said with a firm tone, “ _Besides_ the fact Gaius just blatantly used magic in front of the king of Camelot?”

Gaius blinked in surprise, before turning sharply away and gripping a table. “Sire —”

“Don’t —!” Arthur took another deep breath. They were supposed to help, but didn’t feel all that helpful right now. “Don’t say anything. Please. The less I know about what you did to prove this, the better.”

Gaius nodded, relief crossing his weathered face. “In that case, I think I shall go with the rest of the council for now.” With that, he took his leave as well, and then it was just king and manservant.

Merlin still looked nervous. “What?” Arthur demanded of him. The manservant opened his mouth several times, but ultimately said nothing. “Merlin!”

“Nothing,” Merlin said quietly. “It’s nothing.”

“If it is nothing, then why not tell me anyway?” Arthur said. “It’s been a trying few days, Merlin. Don’t test my patience now.”

“I’m trying not to!” Merlin protested, before looking down at Lancelot’s body. “Since all of this was a bad enchantment, that means Lancelot is still considered a loyal but fallen knight, right?”

“Yes…” Arthur said. “He _is_ a loyal but fallen knight.”

“We never got to give Lancelot a proper send-off, and I know this is not really him, but…since we have it…maybe we could finally give him a real funeral?” Merlin said hesitantly.

Arthur kept staring at the man.

“I mean,” Merlin continued. “I know you two were always tense before and you were hesitant and you probably don’t like him anymore —”

“What gave you that idea?” Arthur asked curiously.

“Well…” Merlin spared a moment to gather his thoughts and said, “I mean – his previous relationship with Gwen, and…what he knew. About me. You get rather…jealous, and Lancelot…”

Arthur sighed and sat down on a bench near the fireplace, well away from Merlin and the body.

“I love Guinevere,” Arthur said. “And Lancelot loved her too – maybe as much as I do. And…you are my best friend.” Merlin looked up at him sharply. “And his best friend, too. If I lost you, or Guinevere – the only other person who understood my feelings on the matter was Lancelot, because he felt it, too.”

Merlin staggered and collapsed onto a stool between Arthur and the dead body, staring at Arthur in shock. The king continued. “I wanted to hate Lancelot, sometimes. I really _should_ hate him. He knows things about you that I dream of you telling me, and he held Guinevere’s affections long before I even noticed her. All of this…but I couldn’t. The very reasons I should hate him are the very reasons I can’t.

Merlin went from wide-eyed to confused, and Arthur elaborated.

“It’s easy for me to entrust my life to others, Merlin. But my people? Harder. And…you? Guinevere? Nearly impossible. And while you each have another person who I know would do everything in their power to protect you…Lancelot was the only other man who cared for you both, held you both in his heart the same way I did. He’s the only other man in the world I could possibly trust to protect you and Guinevere, and – I can’t hate him for that. No matter how much I wanted to, and right now, I really don’t want to.”

Merlin’s eyes were so wide, they resembled dinner plates, and Arthur, unable to bear the weight of Merlin’s gaze, turned away.

For several long minutes, they sat in the silence, with only each other and a corpse for company. Then, slowly, he heard Merlin get up and start puttering about behind him – moving the table, and from the sounds of it pulling a sheet over the body. He started tinkering with and moving various bottles and jars and pots around, tidying the room while Arthur just stared at the empty fireplace, trying not to think about all he had done and all he had left to do. 

Trying, and failing.

Eventually, though, he knew he had to move. While word of the truth would already be spreading, Arthur still had half a dozen official proclamations to make, he had to talk to the knights, he had to meet with the council, he had to get updates on Agravaine, and most importantly, he had to see Guinevere.

He got up, trying to process everything, and turned to see the covered body. Looking like any other body covered with a sheet, like the dozens, sometimes even hundreds, that had littered the streets after each of Morgana’s attacks over the last few years.

“Arthur?” Merlin asked in concern.

“Nothing,” Arthur said, waving him off.

“Uh-huh.” At least the disbelief wasn’t impudent.

Arthur straightened and strode over to the window to look out over the forest. Somewhere inside there, Morgana was hiding.

“I remember the first time I met Morgana,” Arthur said, and Merlin went immediately still and silent in the corner of his eye. “It was so long ago, back when her father…when Gorlois was alive and brought her to Camelot for the first time. Even back then, we were – we called each other names. I stepped on her dress, she pushed me, and we started fighting and didn’t stop for two decades.” He bit his lip, remembering. “She was my best friend, back then, or at least the closest thing I had to one. I used to play with her after her nightmares until Father said it was improper. We sparred together, we learned together, we…we grew up together.”

He turned to Merlin, who looked about ready to cry.

“She was the sister I never knew I had, and now I have to hunt her down and kill her.”

“I’m sorry, Arthur. I’m so sorry,” Merlin whispered.

“Why?” Arthur asked bitterly. “It’s not your fault.”

“It is, actually,” Merlin said hoarsely, shutting his eyes and swallowing several times before he spoke again. “I told you, I knew what was happening to her. But – I was…I was hearing lots of things, from more than one person. Everyone had their own agenda. I heard – I _knew_ – that Morgana would turn against us all, would turn evil. And I did nothing – I was so scared of being the one to turn her against us, I did nothing about it, and by the time I did, it was too late, and-” He closed his eyes. “It’s my fault. I know it, Arthur, it’s not – I can’t tell you everything, right now, but if I’d just been a friend to her, sooner, been more honest with her, she would still be here with us, today, the one we know and love. She’d be your friend and she’d be dressing Gwen up for her wedding and mocking you at your feast right now and instead we’re…like this. It may all be Morgana’s fault, but Morgana is _my_ fault, and Arthur, I’m sorry, I am so, so sorry.”

Arthur stared at his manservant, stunned. “Merlin, you – what do you…” He shook his head. “What do you mean you can’t tell me?”

Merlin bit his lip, and Arthur narrowed his eyes. “Is this to do with your secrets?”

A single nod, no hesitation. “Merlin,” Arthur said, using the sternest voice he knew while trying to hold back the suddenly rising rage. “I don’t care what you are terrified of – tell me what they are. Now.”

“I can’t!”

“Yes you can!”

“I’m sorry, Arthur, but I can’t fix all the damage I’ve caused if I’m dead!” Merlin snapped.

“And who’s going to kill you if you tell me?”

“You!”

Merlin was nervous again, and Arthur, feeling his hand fly to the pommel of his sword, couldn’t blame him. “Tell. Me. Now.”

“Not…not yet. Soon,” Merlin promised. “But there is so much going on and… do you really want _more_ bad news?”

“So it is bad, then? Something bad enough that you genuinely think I’d kill you over it?” Arthur said. Merlin shut his eyes, and nodded.

“And – I have things I need to finish. Fixing everything Morgana does, helping you…when I’m done…when I can die, then I’ll tell you.”

Arthur just stared at him, helpless fury waging battle against the _no no NO_ of the thought of Merlin _dying_ , especially at his own hand. He’s already lost so many people. He couldn’t lose Merlin, too.

Rather than do something he’d regret, Arthur turned and left the chambers entirely.

He had much to do.

~*~

The rest of the day was spent fielding questions and planning out how to find Morgana. Agravaine had gone missing for a good portion of the day, but Leon regretfully reported that while he knew Agravaine had ridden out towards the northwest, he had no idea where beyond a wide slice of force and was unable to track the man. However he was communicating with Morgana now, he was hiding it much better than before.

In the council room, Gaius was painting sigils on some of the men’s hands – those who’d shaken hands with the fake Lancelot. The sigils were apparently to cleanse their spirits of anything ‘caught’ from the dead man. The look on Gaius’s face suggested it was more of a mental comfort than anything helpful, but at least it let Arthur know who had inexplicably tried to get close to ‘Lancelot’ despite never caring about the man before.

Agravaine was the only one whose plot with Lancelot was actually put in action – but he wasn’t the only one who would have tried something in the first place.

He didn’t see Merlin for the rest of the day. George brought him wine, water, and papers as needed, but instead of looking smug and proud, he seemed nervous, and particularly protective of the things he was fetching for Arthur.

He wondered what Merlin had said while telling the man to fill in for him at Arthur’s side.

That night, he finally left the castle, cloak on and hood up. He took a long walk to the smithy in the midtown, gratefully noting the subtle concentration of guards in the area as he approached Guinevere’s home – Leon’s work, no doubt, to protect the future queen.

He paused a moment outside the actual shop, and frowned as he heard noise, peeking inside to see Elyan sharpening his sword.

“How is she?” Arthur asked. “Is she willing to see me?”

Elyan paused his movements, looking at the wall that separated the workshop from the house.

“I don’t know if she wants to see you,” Elyan said finally, worry saturating his voice. “But the state she was in when I left her – I think maybe you should go in, either way.”

Arthur nodded in gratitude and left the man back to the care of his weapon, and went and knocked on Guinevere’s door.

“I told you to leave me, Elyan!” she snapped from inside. Arthur stepped back from the door in surprise – he’s only rarely heard her so short-tempered. One of the few times he had, it was right after her father’s death.

“It’s me,” Arthur called in.

There was a long pause, long enough that Arthur eventually added, “It’s Arthur.”

Then there was movement from inside, shuffling around, and then she opened the door. Her hair hung limply around her face, there were bags under her red, puffy eyes. All her clothes were in disarray, despite the fact she’d obviously changed since last night.

“I…I needed to see you,” Arthur said.

She was about to say something ‒ possibly to order him out of her sight ‒ but instead stepped back, opening the door to let him in. She then closed it behind him, both pretending not to notice several guards strolling in front of her home.

Guinevere moved mechanically through her home, and Arthur trailed after her. “I wanted to say I’m sorry, Guinevere – my reactions were deplorable, and…”

“No, Arthur, you weren’t – if it hadn’t been an enchantment – if I were really betraying you…” She bit her lip, picked up what looked to be a scarf of some kind and worried it between her hands.

“I’m sorry,” Arthur repeated. “And I…”

He trailed off as he looked around. Several baskets lay half-empty across every other horizontal surface in the room, and a large bag and a satchel lay half packed on her bed, while clothes, rags, and the odd paper or trinket were strewn about.

“Are you…packing?” he asked.

She didn’t respond, which was answer enough as she collapsed on the bed while he whirled around, taking in more evidence.

“You’re leaving?” he asked her.

“Yes. No. I don’t know. Maybe!” she cried out.

“You can’t!” Arthur protested, turning to face her. “Please, you – you can’t leave me, not now!”

“I’m sorry, Arthur,” she said, and now she buried her face in her hands, her chest trembling.

“You can’t leave me,” Arthur said dumbly, slowly approaching her on weakening legs. “Please.”

He fell to his knees before her, not noticing the hard stone floor on his knees as he gently took her hands away from her face.

“Please,” he said as she stared at him in shock. He fell back on his heels and wrapped his arms around her, pressing his face into her waist. “Please, _please_ don’t leave me. I can’t lose you, too.”

“Lose me, too?” she echoed, followed by a hiccup of confusion.

Arthur sighed.

“Lancelot – the man…the thing you were kissing, is dead.”

She sniffed. “What do you mean, ‘the thing’?”

“It wasn’t Lancelot,” Arthur said, leaning his head back to look up at her. “It was necromancy. Magic of the dead. Gaius says normally even most dark sorcerers wouldn’t touch it. But – it was just a replica, of sorts. There was some strange diagram on their floor, and presumably Gaius enchanted it somehow. When they put Lancelot’s body in it, it started shimmering and became see-through, and you could _see_ his body inside it, a skeleton, and…we never had him back, Guinevere. I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” she asked dubiously.

“Yes,” Arthur said. “I knew about you two, but – he’d never betrayed my trust, and neither had you, not really. I…he was my friend, envy aside. I wanted him back, and I don’t blame you for wanting him back, either.”

She just nodded absently as she threaded her fingers through his hair.

“Please don’t leave me,” Arthur said, kneeling back up a bit to press his face into her shoulder. “I’ve lost too many people too soon, Guinevere, and I can’t bear to lose you now.”

For several, long moments, she remained silent, leaving him waiting, wrapping her hands around his elbows. Then, slowly, quietly, she began to speak. “Arthur, after everything that happened, I just…I thought I need time. I don’t want to leave, either, but then I think of everything that happened and I don’t feel ready for a wedding. I want to stay and marry you and be done with it and… just…it’s been so much, Arthur.”

She looked around her room. “I started packing, but…I remembered Morgana did this to us. And I’ve never stopped to think about it, but so many of the clothes I have now have to do with her.”

Arthur frowned, looking over his shoulder. “What do you mean?”

“I mean – most of these are her cast-offs, or clothes she bought me when she felt like buying something that wasn’t for herself. Very little of my own clothing came from someone besides her. I just started thinking about her and I couldn’t bear to pack any of my clothes from her, but then I’d have next to nothing left, and I wondered if letting her decide my clothes was letting her win. But then, I was already leaving because of her, and it’s all just so confusing, and I don’t know what I’m doing anymore, Arthur, or what’s going to happen or what’s going on in anyone’s heads – I don’t even know what’s going on through my own head, apparently!” He turned as she pressed her face into his hair and kept talking, voice only slightly muffled. “And, I just, all this scares me, Arthur, and not in a way that we can just hold each other’s hands and face down together and know that whatever happens, we stood up to it. This is something else entirely, Arthur, and…”

She ended up crying again, and Arthur leaned into her, and she curled around his head as she said, “I’m sorry, Arthur, I just don’t know what to do, anymore.”

“Neither do I,” Arthur admitted.

For a few moments, they stayed there in silence.

Then soft, gentle knocking at the door.

“It’s me,” Merlin called from outside.

Arthur’s grip tightened around Guinevere, even as she called out, “Come – come in…”

He looked over his shoulder to see Merlin slip in through the door, shutting it sheepishly behind him.

“Are you ever going to stop following me everywhere?” Arthur asked as he turned back to bury his face in Guinevere’s belly.

“Never,” Merlin said honestly, and Arthur could feel Merlin’s knee against his shoulder as his manservant sat beside his former future wife.

“I…I know what it’s like to need time,” Merlin said. “But I also know what it’s like to come back.”

There was a long silence, broken only by shifting as Merlin apparently leaned into Guinevere and she leaned back into him, one of her arms still curling around his neck.

“Where were you planning to go?” Merlin asked.

“I…had a few ideas,” she said. “Why?”

“You could go to Ealdor,” Merlin offered. “My mother would take good care of you while you sort yourself. And not many people would think to look there – you’d be safe.”

Against all odds, Arthur could actually feel himself relaxing. That…that could work. Hunith would definitely take care of her, and Ealdor’s location, so long as they revealed it to no one, would keep her safe. There were plenty of places one would look for a future queen, but the king’s manservant’s mother’s home was not likely to be one of them.

“Morgana knows about Ealdor,” Guinevere pointed out quietly, and yes, damnit, she did. Even if she now spat on the ideals the four of them had fought for together in that village, she would still remember it.

“But is she likely to look there?” Merlin asked. “No – we can…we can use this. You go to Ealdor, but we tell Agravaine and everyone else you are headed in the opposite direction. Maybe this time, we can catch them.”

Guinevere nodded, and Arthur sighed despondently.

“I don’t want to lose you,” Arthur said, looking up at them both.

“I’ll come back,” Guinevere said, brushing her fingers through his hair. “I promise.”

“I did,” Merlin said encouragingly.

Arthur frowned. “When did you leave, besides when your mother was ill?”

“See?” Merlin pointed out. “You didn’t even notice!”

Arthur sighed, his head flopping forward into Guinevere’s lap. She choked out something that sounded like both a laugh and a sob.

“We’ll get through this,” she said finally. “We will, and we’ll come out stronger on the other side.”

“I hope you’re right,” Arthur said. “Because I don’t know what I’ll do, otherwise.”

~*~

It took three flaming arrows for them to finally light the boat Lancelot’s body – not-body – was laid in, but eventually they got it.

Gwaine started talking about Lancelot, then Leon did, then Percival and Elyan in turn, murmuring quietly and sharing stories about their friend.

Merlin and Guinevere just held silently onto Arthur’s hands as they kept their vigil, watching until the boat and body finally sank, and only a few smoldering flowers remained floating on the surface of the calm water.

Arthur finished the ceremony with a quiet, “Rest in peace, my friend. Camelot will miss you – and I will miss you, too.”

He had so much more he wanted to say to the man, but none of the words would come out, feeling so inadequate against everything else. Instead, he simply waited as Merlin knelt by the water’s edge, dipped his fingers into the gentle, lapping waves, and muttered whatever it was he had to say, and Guinevere bowed her head beside him.

None of them left until the sun set – the entire walk home heavy with grim silence.

Arthur wondered if anyone else was mourning more than just their dead friend.

But maybe that was just him. Either way, he kept his thoughts to himself, his eyes sharply watching the forest around them as they went.

It was too late to look back, now – they could only move forward, and stay safe along the way.

~*~

“…make her our number one priority in all offensive matters,” Arthur said, looking around the Court a scant three days later. “Morgana is in the kingdom, somewhere, and this recent attack has proven to be the final straw. We are at war with her, however sly and subtle these battles may be, and she poses the biggest threat to the kingdom in decades.”

He took a deep breath.

“As my betrothed had not betrayed me, but was simply a pawn in an attack, we will still be marrying,” Arthur informed them. “But not right away. She has been escorted to an undisclosed location, one which only I know. She will remain there in safety until our current threat has been neutralized, and only when the kingdom is safe will we wed.”

Murmurs and gossip, neither of which Arthur wanted to deal with right now.

“The Court is dismissed for now – we shall reconvene in the afternoon.”

Arthur turned and went through an antechamber, out into and down the corridor, then back into the council room. There the Court council and the knights awaited, having already heard the entire announcement.

“Are you sure you don’t want to know?” Arthur asked the knights without preamble, doing his best to _not_ look at Agravaine as he did.

“I’m sure,” Elyan said. “I would love nothing more than to know where she is…”

“But so would Morgana,” Gwaine finished.

“Best not to take that chance,” Leon agreed.

“Especially not after what happened last time we were enchanted,” Percival said, shivering.

As if on cue, Merlin walked in, punctuating their latent guilt. While the physical bruises were gone, the knights’ memories of them would probably stew in their hearts for the rest of their lives.

The rest of the council finished quickly, Arthur giving everyone their orders before cutting them loose. Soon, it was Arthur, Merlin, and the knights hunching in around each other, speaking quietly.

As soon as they were close and quiet enough that even anyone standing at the door would be unable to hear them, Merlin said, “She’s safe.”

“Are you sure?” Elyan asked.

He nodded. “We went in the wrong direction to get Agravaine going, lost him, then rounded back and rode straight to Ealdor. My mother sends you all her best wishes, by the way.”

Arthur smiled. “And…Guinevere?”

“Getting better,” Merlin promised. “I told you, she’ll come back. Just give her time.”

Arthur nodded in approval, standing up to reach for some more wine. “Hopefully, by the time she’s ready to come back, Morgana will have been dealt with.”

Merlin stiffened a little, but nodded, waving a quick goodbye as he headed out the door to commence his usual duties.

“You lot have your own duties,” Arthur said, and Elyan, Leon, and Percival all nodded, quickly heading out. Gwaine, however, stayed.

“You okay, Princess?”

“No,” Arthur said, pondering whether to pour himself more wine. Bad idea in the middle of the day, especially after how much he had in the council. “But I will be. And I can fake it in the meantime.”

“Just don’t fake it too much,” Gwaine chided, clapping a hand on Arthur’s shoulder, before turning to follow the others out.

“Gwaine,” Arthur said. The knight stopped and looked back at Arthur. “Keep an eye on Merlin, for me. I worry about him.”

Gwaine nodded slowly. “Is that all?”

Arthur shook his head. “You know how he has those secrets of his?”

Gwaine’s face darkened. “Yes – and maybe I’m hearing incorrectly, but…are you asking me to _spy_ on him?”

“No,” Arthur shook his head. “I meant it. I just need you to keep an eye on him.”

He was a little more hesitant, but Gwaine slowly nodded, this time leaving without interruption.

Arthur sighed as he found himself alone with several mostly-empty cups of wine.

“Let’s just hope you’re sober enough to find out his secrets,” Arthur muttered as he followed Gwaine out.

The knights were busy. Merlin would be watched out for. Gwaine would be kept sober. Gwen would be kept safe. Everybody won.

Except somehow, Arthur didn’t feel like he was winning.

~*~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where I de-anon. I'll still be posting the remainder of this fic not-logged in/on anon (I'll fully de-anon when I'm done posting this entire series), but if you want to find me elsewhere on the Internet, you might know me as [Nyxelestia](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Nyxelestia). You can find me under the same username on [LJ](nyxelestia.livejournal.com), [DreamWidth](nyxelestia.dreamwidth.org), and [Tumblr](nyxelestia.tumblr.com).
> 
> I'm not really in the Merlin fandom so much, these days (I STILL haven't seen Season 5!), but I will finish this fic, and I am actually considering reviving an old fic/series of mine that I had big plans for, but never really got back to ([this one](http://archiveofourown.org/works/246684)).
> 
> Come say hi!
> 
> Also, the lovely AngelQueen has been a wonderful beta for me thus far, but has taken upon other commitments and will not be able to beta the last two fics in the series. If any of you are interested in beta-ing one or both fics, please let me know! :)
> 
> And, as always, let me know what you think. From compliments to critique, your words always help me improve mine. Every review makes my day. ^_^
> 
> Now I’m off to write my massive term paper I was supposed to finish ages ago. ~~I HAVEN’T SLEPT SINCE TUESDAY WISH ME LUCK.~~ :P

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for taking so long. I've finally started university! (I've been going to community college for the last few years). So new university + Rush week + ROTC kind of kicked my ass and ate up a lot of time, especially since I'm scrambling to finish a big bang for another fandom.
> 
> I'm still staying anon right now, entirely for nonsensical personal reasons, but I track the kinkmeme thread and of course the AO3 fics, so any comment left on either place, I get in my inbox - feel free to pester me! I always love hearing from you guys. :)


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